Prodigal

What a word. Prodigal. It evokes such powerful images. The idea of throwing love and protection back in a loved one's face and leaving only to come running back in anguish from the world outside and the ruin we've created to fall forgiven into the arms of the one we rejected.

And yet it is so often abused. The idea that we are all prodigals of God's love and he will take us back does not mean that we get to run away because we know he will take us back. Being the prodigal does not erase the responsibility of what we do, before or after we are forgiven.

It is so frustrating to me when people want to lean on this idea of being the prodigal to erase their poor choices. If a young person runs away from home and does drugs, or commits a crime, or gets pregnant, they can still come home, be forgiven and be loved, but they still have to take responsibility or face the consequences of those actions. Asking for forgiveness is not a way to avoid or run from our actions or their repercussions.

God forgave David for his actions with Bathsheba and for killing her husband. That forgiveness was total and unending. The responsibilities, though, the death of their son, and the knowledge of what they had done, that was still there. The forgiveness is not that the sin is erased from existence, but that we don't have to pay the eternal price for it. The worldly one, we may still and often do still have to.

As a teacher if I always give my students a second chance with no repercussions at all, they never learn responsibility. Further what is the point of trying hard, making a genuine effort, if you can just start over fresh the next day until forever? Seriously.

Grace is a gift. We don't deserve it. We didn't earn it. We can ask for it and receive it. It is a get out of Hell free card. When received genuinely. However it is not a get out of responsibility forever card.

The other part of that is that our hurts and griefs and the sins perpetuated on us by others are not an excuse or pass on the sins we perpetuate on others. Terrible things may have happened to you. You may have done terrible things to others because of that, but, YOU still did those terrible things to someone else. You have to take responsibility for that. Hopefully you will be forgiven on earth (by those you hurt) as you are in heaven (by Jesus and Our Father) but that doesn't mean that those that you hurt have to or can forget what you did to them or that they will or have to kill the fatted calf in your honor. Nor do you get to demand that. This is called accepting responsibility for your actions.

The good news is that God will be with you, to comfort you and guide you through the process and your own grief in your sin. Hopefully he will be there for the ones you sinned against in their healing and forgiveness of you...

There are several people in my life who feel their admission, their repentance and my forgiveness is enough to simply make the pain caused go away and that everything goes back to the way it was. There are reasons, they feel, for what happened, and therefore I am the one who is unreasonable to guard parts of myself from them or to keep parts of my life separate from them now. Several other people in my life have the same problem with others in their life.

At the same time, there are those I have hurt that I wish would forgive me and/or "take me back." Some of them have. Some of them haven't and probably won't. That is my responsibility, burden, to bear because of my sin. God can help me with that...

This has nothing to do with anything specific that has happened lately, just a response of sorts to something I read today.

It does make me thankful for God's forgiveness and most importantly for his Grace.

Baby on my Chest

Babies are a funny thing. At least for me.

When I was a young person I assumed parenthood was in my future. It was a given. Additionally I have always been fascinated by the idea of pregnancy. It just strikes me as being an amazing thing, to hold within you a developing person. What a privilege and responsibility and wonder... Sort of like the heart of teaching, molding a human building from within.

Further, I love children. Not all ages, always, but I really enjoy working with them. I've been told I have a special touch with babies especially. I'll agree I am comfortable with them.

As I got older and marriage and family seemed less of a given I spent less time thinking about it. Also as a teacher, it's amazing how tired you get of children sometimes. It's sort of like spending all the energy required to be a parent all at once in one big burst. Not to say that I didn't still enjoy children, but teaching is an exhausting thing... exhausting in your very soul.

Now, I find myself content to let others around me parent. There are so many other things that I am doing, need to do, want to do, and may be the only person who can do. Still not to say that I don't want to, or wouldn't consider it, just that I am not focused on it. Being responsible for a senior citizen taps a lot of what might have been left after teaching...

But then, I borrow a baby while a friend is in the hospital having her fourth. This warm ball of flesh and hair with big blue eyes and blonde curls curled up on my chest and would not budge. All other arms she refused and she slept on my chest and rested there for hours.

At moments like that, my heart cries out for that reality. ... to hold a baby of my very own.

Borrowing Babies

Yes, he e-mailed and we are figuring out when to go out for coffee sometime in the near future. He's very nice, we have a scary amount in common and it's a good thing. Past that, all I am hoping for is an enjoyable afternoon with a nice man in the near future. Seriously. And that's all there is to that.

Anyway.

So my friend, Robin, is having a C-Section tomorrow and plans to be the mother of another beautiful baby girl by 5PM that evening. I will have the joy of keeping her 1, 2, and 4 year olds for the afternoon, evening and night. On Saturday I will turn them over to another friend who will take them for the day on Saturday.

I am looking forward to having them tomorrow. They are angels and adorable and a huge handful and I know that I will love every minute of it.

So tomorrow I have to get my grades done in a hurry so that I can take possession of my delightful borrowed babies!

A Reputation...

Overheard...

"Which one is that teacher in the trailer?"

"You know, the one that was wearing purple yesterday."

"Who pays attention to what color they are wearing?"

"You know, the one that tried to fall up the hill during the fire drill..."

"Oh yeah, that's Miss X, the real tall lady."

Yes, when I tried to exit the practice field after the fire drill I tried to walk straight up the incline. Maybe I was still in camp mode... where I wear sturdy hiking boots. Today I was in walking sandals and a full gauze multi colored skirt, and a deep purple top, and therefore not equipped for the incline. Luckily as I slid down, my skirt spread out around me making my fall very graceful, almost like some lopsided curtsy or Texas Dip (I think that's what they call them?). The skirt kept everything covered, but it took ten minutes in the bathroom to get all the grass of my slip (all the static between the skirt and slip). I imagine it looked pretty funny... I laughed anyway.

The assistant principal smiled indulgently and said, "Miss X, you and your class can walk around this way..."

Thanks, I hadn't thought of that...

Who can beat that for making an impression. And I was afraid I would never get a good reputation...

Tuesdays

Tuesdays are not really my favorite of days. But today was a good day. I lost two pounds this week at weigh in and am leading my group in a little "Biggest Loser" Club that we have at school. This information has wildly excited and motivated my physical trainer.

This is not exactly a good thing.

So today (As is becoming more and more common) I am sore.

Plus I have literally piles of work to get graded by the end of the week.

The kids were reading Saki today. You know, the one who writes all proper and classical and then his stories have this bite you in the but punchlines. I love his stuff.

I had been hoping for a phone call or e-mail this week, which so far I have not gotten. But I'm OK with that.

Fall break is in October, and I've decided I want to go to the way upper west coast (I've never been that far north on that coast before) and get my Wilderness EMT certification. Should be cool and I'm kind of excited by it.

My brother's life seems to be smoothing back out from the in laws and church scenario from heck.

People I care about are healthy and happy... or getting healthier.

So, today is just Tuesday.

I'm OK with that.

Laughter in the Aisles

The kids were working on projects today and desks got way out of alignment.

At the end of the period I told them to straighten up.

"Get these two aisles straight please, this one is anorexic and this one is pregnant..."

It took ten minutes before they could get anything done...

It was a good Monday.

Also, let me just say, a staffer friend of mine, sent me an essay, off the cuff, for me to edit. It was spectacular. I wish I could take credit for being that kids teacher. I'll have to settle for being his friend. I wish I could post it, but my rules... only post stuff I wrote... but, oh man!

Two Cent Psychologist on Marriage

Today a friend of mine asked me a serious question.

Question: When do you think is an OK age to get engaged? Or when are you to young? Is there a certain number?

Answer: Yep, I remember that age, that experience, watching all the rings being exchanged around me and thinking “What the heck?” I’ve gone through that wave several times and now there are also the waves of people getting pregnant too. As someone who has neither been engaged or pregnant, I might not be the best to advise on this issue, but the upshot to watching so many is that I have been able to notice a couple things, objectively, of course.

First, engagements always seem to come in waves, and there will be more in your immediate life time. The point being, it’s not just your age group. It just seems to happen that way. I’m not sure if it’s like the original idea that everyone ends up having simultaneously or what, but that’s the way it works. College tends to be ripe with it, especially in the senior year because 1) college is one of the best places to meet people of similar interests and ambitions while working on said similar interests and ambitions (rather than the older model of dating the children of your parent’s friends who had similar socio-economics and culture and all lived in a 100 mile radius) and 2) the idea of being out on your own in the world as a grown up is crippling and so people tend to try to put a “hold” on something. A wedding is a way to not be going out in the world alone. You know?

It’s funny. When I was your age (Oh God, here we go…) I wanted to be married. I looked around at my friends with their boy friends and grand plans and (as much as I actually dislike them) weddings and I thought, “why not me?” and “I’m missing out!” and all the other things girls think when their friends get married, especially their best friends. But here’s the thing. The people that were really ready to get married are still the same people, they are just as happy and it didn’t matter if they were of the older or younger variety (and I have watched both). The ones that were not ready, oddly enough it had nothing to do with their age either. They are just as unhappy. My Dad wasn’t really good and ready to be married until after 20 years of marriage when my mother left him… That’s why he’s so happy with my step mom, but they were both in their mid forties at their wedding. At 31 I find myself thinking I had no clue at 22 what I wanted in life and had no business thinking I should yoke my life to someone else’s. Watching my friend and her husband together almost seven years later, just proves that point to me. And they are the happy ones, I think!

They have shown that all these religious Baptist kids who get married so early so they can legally have sex, are all also getting divorced before they are 30. How terrible is that? Some people think six months is the perfect engagement. Just enough time to plan a wedding. Let me just tell you. These young people often need to be engaged a long time, to really figure this whole thing out and make sure it’s a good idea (and that does not and should not include living together…!) and yet a lot of these older folks just need enough time to send out invitations, because they already know their own minds and are ready.

Engagement (or marriage) should not be about checking a box, or panicking at the thought of being on your own. It’s not even about raising children with someone(and all the parts necessary before that…) it’s about looking at who is running the same race there beside you and is on the same track and whom you won’t mind running next to for the rest of your life (dun dun dun!) I think Josh Harris said something about can you picture them at 60 and does it make you smile...

Honestly with the exception of childbearing being easiest when you are in your early 20’s I see few reasons to be married before the age of 25… You don’t have diabetes (males who are careless with insulin tend to be impotent before they turn 40… though there are drugs for that now…), you are not a missionary (who is going out into the unknown and needs to take a wife with them), you have not been dating this girl for the better part of your life, making this a forgone conclusion (and not a lot of people should really do it that way anyway, but…) and no one has gotten pregnant (thank God!... right?) The girl even told me she doesn’t know what she wants to do with her life yet, and that’s a pretty big journey. You’re not sure what you are going to do yet either. None of these are conducive to that leap. I have friends who will tell you that kind of stuff doesn’t matter. That it’s all faith… I’ve heard that a lot. Of the six couples who went with that theory (that I know, anyway), two are divorced, two are miserable (and probably soon to be divorced) and two are “making it work.” I’m English, not math, but those don’t sound like good odds. Did I mention they were all Christians and while not all virgins, all abstained during courtship till wedding day. In that I mean by most religious standards they did it right, but they really didn’t, you know?

It’s not about wanting it or even needing it, it’s about waiting until being engaged and married is the most logical, reasonable course of action.

When my Dad met my step-mom he just knew. And even though I wasn’t thrilled with how fast they were going, it just made sense. No one could argue with that. There’s a couple in my church, he proposed on the third date and they were married two months later. Sounds hokey, but it just made sense. No one was flustered or panicked or trapped. The really great marriages that I have watched (not to say that everyone doesn’t have their rough spots, they do) all worked that way. Really.

The reason I have so much to is that my brother and I were talking about this yesterday. There was a lot of context that I'm not gonna get into (some mine, some his) but the bottom line was that marriage is hard. Good, wonderful, amazing, terrifying, desolating, agonizing... hard work. What boxer goes into a ring with out being prepared, being in shape, knowing their opponent, having a good coach, having the right equipment and knowing that this is what they absolutely and completely want with every part of their being? Not the ones who win, anyway.

I can't answer this question for you, in that I can’t just give you a number. But for what it is worth, that is my two cents.

Spend it wisely.

Hopeless

Today in therapy my therapist was asking me about a situation that occurred some time ago and he asked me if I felt hopeless.

I told him no.

Then I realized that I have never been hopeless.

Never.

I think maybe that is a result of God in my life, not even maybe, but certainly.

This was a line of thought I wanted to pursue for a while. So we did.

The fact that I have felt trapped, cheated, and even alone, but never believed there was no way out, no answer, no possibility was a real surprise as a realization to me.

Not like I was upset about the idea, just surprised.

People often tell me that I am one of the happier people they know, and I find myself very flattered, but thinking they are a little crazy. I was also told by a wonderful friend once that it was because I was bubbly and out going. Another friend once told me that with one exception no matter what happens I bounce back. She said that this quality was one of the things she admired most about me... as I laid on the floor of the church office whining about the one thing it took me a bit longer to get over... anyway!

I was struck by the idea as I sat on the couch that a lack of hopelessness might be what other people see and translate in ways that surprise me...

Today, I think I was happy with myself. This therapy is unlike anything else I have done and I am learning more about myself than I thought I could. I am also looking at a point of completion. It is a ways away, and it is not easy, but it is there. This burden that I have been carrying is something I seem to have simply stood around and held. Sometimes it was added to, and I held it, but I wasn't looking for the place to dump it, so I continued to carry it. Sometimes I was even so distracted to set it down, and rested, but... Now I feel like I am finally walking toward the dump off point and there will be an end to this.

Today I found myself incredibly hopeful!

Adult Conversations

This week I have started to talking to someone new on the phone. It is a very new thing and I have no expectations, just the whole living for the moment of experience.

But...

I was struck as we spoke last night, even with it being a new relationship/friendship, getting to know each other, more information being exchanged than a back and forth conversation exchange, that this was the most adult conversation I had had outside of school in sometime.

What a difference.

I also find myself dreaming, hoping, wishing and wondering about how he hugs...

Maybe I'll find out, but in the mean time,

Here's to talking to grown-ups!

Oh, and no, I will not be giving out more information at this time. I'm just enjoying the moment... No need to get the cart before the horse...

Fingers Crossed, though.

Hugs

This weekend I went home to visit my Dad in Florida for his birthday. It was a really nice visit. He helped me pick out a laptop as well. He really enjoyed the part where we had everything selected and he got to step back and let me pay for it. He really got a thrill out of it. My brother and I got him a digital picture frame for his birthday. He was happy with that, which is also good.



The best part about the trip was that I got hugged.



Hugs are a singularly interesting things. They accomplish several different things and communicate as much if not more. Lately I’ve been thinking about hugs, about what I feel when I’m hugged, what I like to feel and the really special hugs in my life.



To me the ultimate hug is when you feel comforted, loved, safe and protected all at the same time. That is the true manifestation of being cherished, to me, at least, in the hug. While it is not romantic (I mean I’m not from Kentucky…), that is what I feel when my Dad hugs me. Granted he is my size, which helps, but that is not what it is about. Sometimes when my brother, who is very large, hugs me it is almost like that, but… When my students or camper/staff hug me, as in these adolescents I mentor/teach/care for, I feel gratitude and affection, and it is very nice, but that’s not the same. Some hugs, recent, specific, have been nice, I felt very comforted and loved, but the safe and protected feeling was not strong if at all present.



There was one (well one and then an echo later) hug this summer that felt very safe and protected and comforted, but there was not the time and depth invested yet to feel cherished. I was so hurt and confused at the time, it was more like the wonderfulness of fresh bread after a long hard cold hungry day. I was so desolate, any hug would have felt wonderful, though I also concede the arms were very big and strong and that helped (the food analogy with good bread, versus any bread). So that was a very nice and special hug. I think that hugger has promise…



There was a hug, many years ago, in a different life, that was wonderful, but in hindsight it was something else and I misunderstood. The memory is still nice and I know that there are hugs like that out there because of it.



Then as I said, there are my Dad’s hugs.



I imagine I will know my prince charming when I hug him. I mean there is all the build up and romance of a kiss and I’m sure there will be a clue there too, but the clincher to me would most likely be the hug.



Am I the only one who “collects” memories of hugs? Maybe this is a girl thing, or maybe just a “me” thing.



I read somewhere that women express love through their chests. It cited all the ways that happens, nursing, holding babies, erogenous zones and other more adult concepts. It then also talked about hugs.



I think maybe that is right.



(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((HUG)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Letter of Introduction

Dear 9^th Grade Language Arts,

My name is Sandy X, but around here, most people (as in students) call me Miss X.(That's right, Miss, as in Hit or Miss, as in I am neither married nor politically correct!) This is my ninth year teaching, officially, though unofficially I’ve been teaching, working with youth and well, bossy, for much longer. Aside from being a six foot, three inch, red headed stepchild, there are a lot of things that make me unique. My interests include, but are not limited to, traveling, cooking, camping, drama, writing, reading, music, singing, family, art, the ocean, the mountains, X-stitch and movies. And of course, those are just the current interests. There have been (and will be) much more.

Growing up as a Navy Brat (my dad served 22 years) of a single Dad (my parent split my freshman year of high school… talk about bad timing!) I moved a dozen times by the time I graduated high school in California (just outside of San Francisco) and then moved to Florida, where I started out as a Navy Nurse candidate in the NROTC program at University. After two years of working out with Marines and spinning rifles for fun (our Drill Team was third in the nation my freshman year) I gave it all up to pursue a career in education instead. I graduated with a Bachelor’s of English and then a Master’s of Education. After teaching seniors and drama (and a whole bunch of other stuff!) in Florida for three years I moved here where they actually have seasons! I’ve been here for over five years. The first two years, I lived by myself, but about three years ago I became the proud parent of a senior citizen. Nana is 83 and is the funniest person I’ve ever met. That’s her rocking chair at the front of my room. Also in the last several years I pursued a Certification as an Emergency Medical Technician Intermediate (EMT-I) at a terrific Technical School (1 year night school program). This was so I could enjoy the past four summers at a Scout Camp where I am the Medical Officer. I am responsible for about 1000 men/boys each week that are allowed to play with knives, build fires, swim in lakes, climb trees and chase snakes all without their mothers or wives anywhere in site. I work there for 8 weeks each summer and always have a blast.

Now my life pretty much revolves around work, Nana, Scouts and Drama. Sometimes I direct plays for the ninth grade here at school and often I write and/or direct productions at my church. This Fall I will be directing the children’s musical and this Spring I will be writing and directing my church’s mission youth play. Nana (And our two shelties, Piper and Roo) keeps the house pretty jumping. Also even during the year I am doing Scout weekend stuff and teaching First Aid and CPR for the American Heart Association for groups in the area. I also travel a lot. Last year I went to Central America and saw Mayan Ruins. Oh man, it was awesome. I’m thinking of going to Alaska this year or maybe Europe, specifically London. I really want to go back to London.

As to my future, I’m still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. Lately I find myself interested in two possibilities. I’d like to pursue my PhD and become a teacher of teachers, but I’d also really like to be a Paramedic, which is another year of school fulltime. Also, one of these days I am actually going to finish one of the books and/or screen plays I am working on and get them published/produced.

I’m going to get to all the things I’m after in life by never giving up, keeping focused on my goals and enjoying life as I live it. Sometimes that is easy, but sometimes it is hard. I find that the best way to get where you are going in keeping your mind on all the time. Bring it with you everywhere and always be using it. Besides, even when no one else will talk to you, your mind always will!

You guys can actually help me with some of my goals in life by continuing to challenge me to be the best teacher I can be. I learn more everyday teaching in class than you guys learn all year. Working with young people helps keep my mind young and active so that someday, who knows, I might be younger than you! Besides, someday you may be my doctor, lawyer, airline pilot, mechanic, plumber, carpenter, or architect and I need you to be on your best game.

The last thing is there are some things it would probably help you to know about me as a teacher. I have some “pet peeves” as they say. People who don’t pay attention, but expect me to fill in the gaps for them when they feel like it, disrespect, constant requests to use the restrooms and putting your head down on the desk is a sure fire way to find out how loud I can get. However, the flip side is that I love it when students have useful and interesting comments to add to class discussions, want to talk about books and poetry and let their enthusiasm for their own advancement spill over into the classroom such that everyone grows and learns.

There are many more stories that I want to tell you and this letter only scratches the surface of who I am, but I hope it helps give a you a little bit of an idea of where I am coming from.

Sincerely,

Your teacher, Miss X

I am not your friend.... and other thoughts of a teacher.

School has started, we've been at it for a full five days now. The kids this year are probably the best I've seen so far in the 9th grade. Part of that has to do with the fact that I have all advanced this year, but more of it has to do with this group of kids in general, just really good kids.

They have it rough though. I've been hard on them from the start. I told them on day 1 that I was not their friend. Sounds pretty harsh, I'm sure, though they took it well because I explained the statement. See here's the thing. I am not at school to be the student's friend. I am not there to make them feel better about themselves or make it all better for them. I am there to teach them, to give them skills and for them to gain the confidence that comes from know the information. As I told them, self esteem is all well and good, but if there is lots of it with no skills, abilities or knowledge, it still adds up to a pretty bad deal. We talked about trying. I've turned into Yoda on that one. Do or do not, there is not try.

The thing that is cool is that they are rising to this. I've been able to do activities with them so far that I never could have done with any other classes. They had a completely class led discussion yesterday for over an hour about the intentions of Richard Connel in "The Most Dangerous Game." No two classes argued the same set of issues, but they all argued. I learned so much from them. It really was fascinating.

Oh, and I'll have to post my letter of introduction to them... I was pretty impressed with it if I do say so myself.

There are some things that concern me about this group. I've already got one young lady that I think really may be in trouble. She clearly does not want to be a girl. She dresses, acts and talks like a boy. This is not being a tom boy, this is completely subverting all gender signs. Today even in the 100 degree heat she showed up in a long sleeved shirt and jeans. Then she told me she was having an anxiety attack. This is her second one since school started. Something is happening to this child, I can just feel it. Everyone else seems to think it is only possible, and no big deal. We'll see, I guess.

I have a new plaque up that states, "I have winged monkeys and I'm not afraid to use them!"

Nana seems to be getting a cold. Part of this may be because of disrupted sleep. Piper has decided he likes getting up at 2:30 AM and eating then. The first time he did it, Nana thought it was time to get up and scared the snot out of me, as I thought I had overslept. Then I figured it out. I think I am going to shoot the dog. I asked Nana who owned whom here. She smiled and said, "He owns me..." I think not!

Also I went back to training this week. Which is a good thing, but I really hate it. Except I missed it and it feels kind of good. There is something clearly wrong with me.

I'm considering doing a Master Cleanse. I've been reading a lot about it. But I haven't decided yet. The toilet issues sound a bit gnarly.

Oh, and by the way, having been put in a trailer this year (insert trailer trash joke here, all my other friends have) I find I like it. I can control my own thermostat and with the 100 degree weather outside, that is a rather nice thing. Also I am on my own island in the parking lot. John Dunn said no man is an island, but apparently this woman is!

Nanaisms

At camp on July 4th
"Nana now, we are at camp, so you have to behave yourself."

"Oh! Don't worry. I won't rape any little boys, here."

"Wow, I feel so much safer, now. Thanks."


At dinner on July 28, 2007.

"Sex is a wonderful thing in marriage. When it's her first time and his, provided he's telling the truth..."

This morning.

"I don't want another husband, I liked the one I had and a new one would be too hard to fix the way I'd want him."

Miss You

It is Thursday and I am back to being a responsible adult in education. But as I look around and work on classrooms and lesson plans, I miss them

I miss the "Sandy, can we talk?" I miss the knocks on the door, the sound of shuffling feet. I miss the requests for a shoulder rub and most of all I miss the banter.

I miss Randy, Sunshine, Danny, Batch, Mark, Diamond, Charles, Matt B, Kastner, Drew, Jason, all the Josh's, Amanda, Sam, Papesh, and Mike.

It's funny how much I miss them. The rules are very clear too, we don't call, write or e-mail unless it is about camp and specific to camp... That's months away...

The power some of these boys/men have to make me feel important, connected and whole is amazing. The ways they can confuse and wound me is equally impressive. I haven't decided for sure what makes it the experience it is. It is so difficult to explain.

Whatever, this evening, as I sit in my living room, hacking up a lung from Bronchitis... thanks for that by the way, and you know who you are... getting ready for bed and planning my day tomorrow, I miss them....

If you are reading, I miss you, all, a lot. I miss feeling like I really matter. Sometimes I only feel like that when I'm with you...

Closure

So camp is over.

There were some conversations I wish I had scraped up the courage to have. There are some that I am proud of myself for not having.

I am sure in the clarity of hindsight there will be things I regret, but overall I think I handled this right.

For the most part, and it may be cowardly, I left it alone. There was no point to digging, even the sore opened in my heart seems to be healing over, so I am leaving it, as is.

I am even confidant in my ability to do this again, next year, though as always it will be different, further up the continuum. And I reserve the right to say no if I want to or need to.

We'll see.

I have learned this, this summer, I think.

I am of value and I matter. This camp may actually need me (at least right now) as much as I need it. There are lives here that I am touching and helping grow. There is more growing that I have yet to do. My heart may not be as dead and shriveled as I sometimes imagine that it is. There are worse things than being lonely. We can control our hearts if we want to, and that is not a bad thing. You can't force your heart to feel something, though, and that is OK too.

Oh, and boundaries are boundaries, and they are a good thing, and I have them and am aware of them and that is a good thing. Even if other people don't have them or use them or understand them, my awareness can be enough for both of us and I can at least protect myself, if not them.

But age, is just a number. Past 18 and high school, it has little to do with anything. Maturity, wisdom and experience are paramount. Time is necessary for those things, though, and some people really are slower than others. It can make you older, but it often makes you younger. If you are lucky it does both.

Last of all.

There is nothing finer in life, than the smile on the face of someone you helped.

My Secret

In the past five summers, I've seen a lot of the boys at camp asleep.

I love this group, mostly because they are so "in between" what they were and what they will be. Watching the shift is a unequaled joy in my life.

When they sleep, I see what they were. They all look like sweet little boys, flushed with sleep and often smiling.

Then when they are waking up, often in the half light, I see a glimpse of what they will become. The determination, honor and courage of men.

It makes it all worth it.

Sticks and Stones

I had a friend who used to say you could call him stupid, but never a fool. Had another who used to say you could call her witch, but never the other word that sound similar.

Apparently I've got a couple of words I don't accept either.

But they are just words, right? Why does it matter so much?

I honestly don't know.

But apparently, they do.

Emergency Rooms

All I'm saying is that if I have to spend another afternoon/evening in an emergency room this week I may go a little insane. Two in two days is my limit!

Quickie: Finger Carving Merit Badge

It is always my prerogative and honor to give out the Finger Carving Merit Badge at Friday Night Campfire each week. I look at all the injuries over the week and I look to see if any (and there can be more than one) were particularly bad, funny or unique. Sometimes it is not a finger and there is no knife, so I come up with a different name.

One child got, "It's just a flesh wound" because we could not get this rather shallow head laceration to quit spurting blood like a fountain. Seriously (and no it wasn't arterial, he just had high blood pressure or something.)

One child got, "The Stoic Award!" That kid was funny. He came in because his arm kinda hurt, but on a scale of 1 to 10 it was only a 1. Eventually I got him to go up to 2. We took him in anyway. It was broken in three places. What happened in this kid's life that this was only a 2?

This week's camper finger carving merit badge went to a kid who did not get stitches. That's because there was nothing to sew anything to. Just a big long slice down his pointer finger. It took forever to get that thing to stop!

There were two staff Finger Carvers, however. One was (and I am not making this up!) sitting on the toilet, he got bored and decided to carve on his walking stick and sliced open his finger. He waited until he finished, cleaned up and then got his pants up before he called me. I was flattered for the courtesy.

The other one is for the third (!) handi-craft staff member who has attempted to take a finger off. What is with these people! They are the ones who teach wood-carving. One was the director and the other was his assistant.

I really aught to become a PA so I can stitch them up myself. I could charge and I think I could turn a profit!

Last week of camp. Anything could happen!

Relieved, Surprised, Confused, Peaceful

There is peace today. I'm not sure why. Technically I didn't do anything and frankly best I can tell neither did anyone else, really, per say, but...

Today I am peaceful.

Maybe it was letting go, maybe it was accepting, facing and moving on. Maybe it was simply time.

There was no reckoning, though I imagine that may still happen eventually, possibly, sometime.

It's not closing the book, but I think I have guessed the ending and I am OK with it. Actually I am excited to read the future volumes secure in the roles of the characters.

Oh, and I talked to my Dad and brother about it. That always makes things better.

In discussing it with them, for all that they allowed me to be validated, I could see the juvenile aspects to the situation. (Making my therapist again, right!) Further, I also saw that the bigger problem here is not really mine. Most importantly, I saw how much I was influenced by the opinions and observations of some other, albeit well meaning, individuals.

Last night one of the others started in on me again and I saw how he actually stirs up drama where there is less than more. It is well meaning on his part, he's trying to help, but... Not to say that there wasn't/isn't an issue, but it really, as I said, isn't so much mine.

Also, speaking of juvenile.

There was an issue at camp last week.

A director was fired. While originally I felt they were salvageable (they were making some mistakes, but I thought we could work with them) turns out I was wrong. They were doing something that I find completely unacceptable under any circumstance. Unfortunately they were fired after I had already contracted the towels (embroidered with name and year) that I give to senior staff each year. Now I had a problem.

I couldn't give them the towel. But I couldn't use it or give it to anyone else. It had their name on it for goodness sake! So when others were looking for a towel to use to create torches for lighting the campfire I offered it up. Unfortunately the use of that towel as a torch (and the replacement co-directors being the ones to wield them... which was not my idea) got back to said fired director.

He called me at camp. He asked me if it was true what happened. I said yes. He asked me what my part in it was. I said I gave the towel when one was requested. Then he didn't say a whole lot else. I'm not sure what he wanted me to say. I imagine he was mad and/or hurt. However, he did not buy the towel, it was never his property and well, it just is what it is.

I'm sorry he was hurt, but I'm not sure why he thought calling me was a good idea or what he wanted to know. There was nothing I could tell him that was going to help and nothing I could do at that point.

My father and I talked about that too.

So today I am peaceful and it is a good thing. No mysteries solved exactly, nothing resolved completely, but today, for whatever break it is, is peaceful.

The Boys of Summer 2007

There is a button, that some people in Scout wear, that says, "I'm here for the boys." I don't wear this button for all that it is rather my truth because, well, people would misunderstand.

But I am here for the boys. Let me tell you about some of them. (Some are ones you have heard about before, and some are new.)

Batch. Batch is 22 and studying to be a geologist. Very bright boy. Also one of the singularly most emotionally aware young men I have met in some time. He sees people, though granted he has to be paying attention, and he knows them. He is not afraid of his feelings or any one else's. He might have been one of my saving graces this summer.

Dr. Nichols. Not really a doctor, he's only 17, but we call him that. Such an earnest young man and a very hard worker. There is something in his speech and demeanor that reminds me of the dentist elf on Rudolf the Red Nose Reindeer, but in a good way. He's just a big teddy bear sort too.

Ethan. Also a big bear. Big soft deep voice. He made me a canoe on the first week of camp. Just a little one, mind you, but it was very sweet. He has soft eyes and a kind smile and he actually wrestled the Chaplin to the ground when I jokingly suggested it. Then I had to apologize to the Chaplin (a good friend of mine... so it was OK!)

Sunshine. Now here is a young man worth watching. Starting his senior year in HS, already accepted to the Citadel, but hoping to go to the Coast Guard Academy, Sunshine is probably one of the camp's best imports. He's from Florida. Maybe the soft spot I have from him is the military background (he's a brat like me) or the clean cut, respectful way he conducts himself all the time. The way he demures about his girlfriend is pretty sweet... And when several annoying staff offered to take him to a strip club for his 18th birthday he said "no!" Last year Sunshine got very sick and spent several days up here in Medlodge with me. Poor boy was quite ill. But always polite and said please every time. Also a terrific teacher.

Danny. I've known Danny since his first year at camp as a CIT (counselor in training) and am so proud to now watch him direct his own department. He was grown at 15, but he's even more a real example of maturity now at 18. I "let" him take me "out" one night, on my night off. One of the nicer dates I think I've had in some time. Makes me wish I was 18... and shorter. Danny starts college this year and I wish him all the best. There is a very special girl out there for him somewhere and I can't wait to meet her too. Oh! He plays the banjo and speaks French!

Drew is becoming a really good friend. The shooting sports director this year, he has done great things on staff. My brother calls him the bad boy with the heart of gold. Nana is in love with him. I joke that I am not his type because I have morals. Yet he is the first to come to my rescue often times and a very fierce protector at that. He has a huge albino python called princess and I am desperately trying to catch the mouse in Med Lodge so he can feed it to her. Also, I fixed him up with Rosie, my hairdresser and friend. Fingers Crossed!

Matt. Here is a very sweet young man. Only 15 and new to camp. Such a hard worker though. If he hugs me one more time with a wet rain jacket I may kill him. But still very sweet. His mom is a professor and only slightly older than I am. He asked me the first day of camp (and remember he is only 15) which branch of medicine he should go into, in my opinion. Very seriously, I might add.

Poje. He's 18 this year. Still every inch the spunky, smart-mouth little brother, but I am starting to get glimpses of the man I think he really will be. He completed his Eagle this summer and I am very proud of him. He starts college this year too. Valdosta may never be the same.

Mike and Jason. The Eagle brothers. One runs camp, the other runs the kitchen. Both are forces to be reckoned with when they are mad. It's the Irish temper thing. Mike has really become one of my best friends over the past year. I have enormous respect for both of these young men. Sometimes I even am nice to them... Mostly I just sass them because I can.

This list is by no means exhaustive and there are so many more, but these are the ones that came to mind.

They are my boys.

Unsure, Confused, Tired...

It's Sunday and I had a nice weekend, but I am still very conflicted about some things and rapidly running out of time.

Early in the year I began to recognize that a situation I may or may not be in was probably not ideal and possibly not conducive to my emotional health for all that it met some real needs/gaps in my life. This summer sort of really brought that issue into the forefront.

So I recognized it, bemoaned it, and then promptly hid from it. But I knew there would be a reckoning.

Someone wise and trustworthy has come forward and said that they would step in and at least bring the situation to people's attention. I was grateful to dodge the bullet.

Now I am not sure.

In solving the problem I do stand to loose something of value to me. There will be a hole. Further there will be awkwardness and maybe even some pain.

If I was honest, I am not even sure I want the problem solved.

Except that I know it is probably a problem and probably not really right.

But after this summer there is a chance it will simply go away, so why can't I just wait.

If I don't let my friend step in for me, I still have time to do it myself, but... I'll have to do it myself. There are problems to that solution as well.

I really need to figure this out.

There is another possibility.

This is in my head, this is my problem, just a symptom of my staggering dysfunction as an adult in adult relationships.

My therapist and I agree that in many ways I arrested emotionally at the point when Mom left us. When I was 15. He says in many ways, for all that I am intelligent, self aware and mature, that I am still that wounded 15 year old and I have to face this issue to move on.

He's right.

But I still am not sure of the answer to this.

And I don't like the cost.

This is where the tears come and I rail at the sky.

"Why do I have to be alone? What did I do that was so wrong? Why can't someone just love me? What is wrong with me? How do I keep ending up here? When does the pain stop? Why can't this just be simple?"

So with less than three days to go to reckoning and possible moment of truth I am fearful, unsure, confused and tired to tears.

I imagine I'll live though.

(Sorry I have nothing funny to add. I'll think about it a bit and get back to you later.)

The Fourth

My heart swells with pride on The Fourth of July.

Yesterday I oversaw an Eagle Honor Court POW MIA ceremony in the Dining Hall and this evening I am singing America the Beautiful with one of the young men (a vocal performance major and quite the baritone!) from camp.

My family has invested itself completely, one way or another in this country and as always I am so proud to be an American.

Especially today!

The Calvary

So I am a coward, but I am still going to do something. I have called in a friend to "pinch hit" on something I am afraid to do myself.

Sometime next week it will be done.

This will be done... sort of... until I have to answer for it and explain myself.

Then camp will be over and I will have to see what survives the rubble.

I wish I was braver.

But this is all I got right now.

Who's a Coward?

Not me. Not at all. There is nothing that I’m afraid of. I mean why should I be, right?

I’m afraid that this is all in my head, that I am making a mountain out of a mole hill, that I have listened to the wrong voices (and there are many) and am so immature and naive that I have really messed up here and am really wrong about it.

I am afraid that if I say something that I am going to loose a really good friend who (especially if I am wrong!) has only ever tried to help me.

I am afraid that I may hurt someone as much as I think they may be hurting me, just as unintentionally. Then what would that say about me.

I am afraid of all the things that saying something will cost me.

I am afraid of all the things that not saying something will cost me.

I am afraid that if I do say something I will say it wrong and it will be as awful and un-closure-y as just letting it go and not saying anything.

I am afraid that my current plan is a bad idea.

I am afraid that the time afterward will be terrible.

I am afraid of life going back to what it was.

I am afraid of what this whole ridiculous situation means about me.

I am afraid that I really have the emotional maturity of a fifteen year old and that I’m gonna be stuck here forever.

I am afraid that this is my fault to begin with and now someone else is getting held responsible for it.

I am afraid of feeling this.

I am afraid.

How can someone be happy and fulfilled and enjoying life and scared and mad and unsure all at the same time?

Why can't this ever just be simple.

There is no comfort that this is simply a learning experience, because I know there is no prize, but the lesson at the end and I will still be alone. It would help if I thought I was fighting for something or someone.

And no, in this case, me doesn't count.